


The Captive Prince

by orphan_account



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Racist Elves, Rape, Slavery, complete with racism and a white savior complex, porn with a surprising amount of plot, the Noldor are the British Empire of Arda, unhappy ending pending, ya'll want more dark AUs cuz I got more dark AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:28:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gondolin is a shining and beautiful city, but only for those fortunate enough to be at the top. For the rest, including a slave with a mysterious past, it's a hell on earth.
Relationships: Glorfindel/Maeglin | Lómion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently ‘Gondolin having slavery’ is a semi-common AU (if you delve far enough into the various fic on this website (and also LiveJournal (RIP)) and I wanted to try my hand at a version of it. 
> 
> And even though I don’t think it’s entirely canon, I love playing in the “Noldor are racist dirtbags” world. 
> 
> And I recently read The Captive Prince by CS Pacat, which is a pretty great series andddd what I named this story after. So credit to CS Pascat for the title. It's a great title. 
> 
> But mostly I just finished Flaming, so I wanted another dark and depressing story to write. Fight me. It’s fun. This one won't have as much physical/sexual abuse (some, but much less) instead I'm focusing on the mental aspect and also the imbedded and racist class structure. 
> 
> Also shoutout to me for reaching my 100th story on here?? Whooo hooo!

Glorfindel sipped his wine and leaned back, watching as his friends grew increasingly more jovial as the evening wore on. The party had been dragging on for hours, and although many of the guests had long since trickled out, plenty still remained.

Soon, it was only himself and Ecthelion, the latter of whom had been grinning for some time, hinting that he had a great gift to give.

Ecthelion clapped his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulders, having snuck up behind the Golden Lord while he’d been enjoying his drink. “I think its high time we brought out your present.”

Glorfindel snorted. “I’ve been given plenty already,” he said, gesturing to a small pile of gifts he’d already opened, mostly trinkets and jewelry. But something in Ecthelion’s grin made him curious.

Ecthelion clapped his hands together and whistled. As though summoned, the door to the room opened and one of the minstrel’s servants entered, pushing along, wheeled box.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. “You’ve brought me a coffin?” he asked with amusement.

“Open it,” Ecthelion said with a smirk.

He pushed himself up slowly, wondering what was in the box that the minstrel had waited until after the rest of the guests had left to give to him. Rapping his knuckles against the box out of curiosity, he knelt beside it, trying to guess what it might contain.

“Open it already,” Ecthelion complained.

“Give me a hint,” Glorfindel said.

The minstrel seemed to contemplate the request, then a soft grin spread over his lips. “Very well,” he said. “I placed the order a while ago, but the correct item wasn’t, ah, _located_ , until only recently. I’ve had it stored in my basement, to keep it fresh. Then I prepared it myself before I came here.”

“Fruit?” Glorfindel asked with a frown.

Ecthelion laughed. “Open it and find out!”

He ran his hand along the lid, finally finding the latch, and carefully swung it open. When he saw what was inside, he slammed it shut immediately.

“Ecthelion-”

But the minstrel only wrapped his arms around Glorfindel from behind, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “He’s exactly your type.”

“I don’t-”

“I bribed the record keeper at the Bathhouse,” Ecthelion said cheerfully. “It wasn’t hard to discern your type from that.”

Glorfindel was silent, slightly embarrassed that his friend had learned such intimate details about him.

Ecthelion flipped open the lid, revealing Glorfindel’s present once more. It was a young slave, male, dark-haired, and completely nude, save for a bow that covered his privates. That was Ecthelion’s doing, no doubt. The minstrel had a flair for the dramatic.

“Avarin?” Glorfindel guessed, running an appraising eye over the slave.

Ecthelion nodded, motioning for the elf to sit up. “I was very careful when I choose him,” he explained, seeming proud of himself. “I’m told he has a fiery personality, although the overseer assures me he’s easy enough to bend.”

Glorfindel couldn’t help but allow his growing interest to take over, pulling the youth out of the box and forcing him to stand in the center of the room. “Does he speak Quenya?”

The slaves weren’t meant to learn Quenya. Some of them did, of course, just from living in the city. But it was frowned upon. Having them unable to speak the language of their owners made it easier to keep them in the dark. As such, most of the Lords spoke Sindarin, or (more commonly) had translators that dealt with their slaves.

“Only a few words,” Ecthelion said. “I’m told it won’t hurt his resale value, of course.”

“Resale?” Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to rid myself of such a thoughtful gift?”As he spoke, the golden lord pulled the bow off him, exposing his genitals.

“I’m only saying if you keep him mute, it makes for a good investment, even once he’s no longer a virgin.”

That caught the Golden Lord off guard. “A virgin?” he asked.

“I wasn’t going to give you sullied goods,” Ecthelion promised, seeming rather proud of himself. “I have on good authority he’s never been touched, except when I dressed him this morning.”

Glorfindel took another look at the slave, motioning for him to turn. His ass was bright red, and he raised an eyebrow. “A fiery ass to match his personality, I take it?”

“He wasn’t happy to go in the box,” Ecthelion replied, shrugging. “He changed his tune after a friendly discussion with my belt.”

Glorfindel landed a swat on top of the already reddened skin, and the elf lurched, saying something in an Avarin dialect Glorfindel wasn’t comfortable in. Ecthelion seemed to understand it, however, and replied in the same language.

As though ordered, the slave turned around and knelt in front of Glorfindel, speaking in a Sindarin dialect the Lord could understand, _“I apologize for using a foul tongue in your presence.”_

He was finally using a dialect Glorfindel understood, so the Golden Lord gave him a sharp nod. _“I will accept your apology.”_

“And here I was hoping to see you whip him,” Ecthelion pouted. “Indulge me?”

Glorfindel sighed. Of course, the minstrel wanted a show. “It’s my begetting day,” he retorted.

“Which is why you get to decide what to do with him.”

Glorfindel glanced at the kneeling elf. _“But first you will earn it,”_ he said, motioning for the slave to stand. Knowing what would delight Ecthelion most, he took the slave to a chair, sat down, and bent him over his knee.

The minstrel watched with delight as Glorfindel rained a flurry of slaps down on his already reddened ass. At first, the slave was silent, but he quickly began to pant, then whine. But to his credit, he didn’t beg.

Glorfindel stopped, resting his hand on the abused ass. _“Stay still,”_ he said sternly. Then he turned his attention back to Ecthelion. “Pleased?”

“Oh very,” Ecthelion said with a wide smile. He seemed to think for a moment, then said, “As I was saying, he’s something of a special case.”

“Other than being rather pretty?”

“I’m told he sold himself into slavery.”

Glorfindel glanced down at the trembling figure on his lap. “Why?” he asked sharply.

Ecthelion only shrugged. “Who knows? The Avari are a mad and sensual race. Perhaps this one enjoys being fucked.”

“I thought he was a virgin.”

“Huh. Perhaps he lied.”

Glorfindel couldn’t hide his interest, which was no doubt why Ecthelion had chosen this particular slave. “You know I can’t resist a puzzle,” he said, rubbing his hand over the slave’s ass.

“I know,” Ecthelion said above the sound of the slave’s whimpers. “Will you keep him?”

Glorfindel looked down at the sobbing mess. “No,” he said. “I doubt I shall.”

The minstrel seemed a bit disappointed. “I thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Glorfindel said, pushing the crying slave from his lap. “And I appreciate the gesture. But no.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some serious non-con / very dubious consent in this chapter. 
> 
> This is the only sex scene for quite a while. I haven't planned the whole thing yet (just kidding, I already have most of it written lol).

He led the slave through the house, finally stopping at his bedchambers. Opening the door, he ushered the other inside.

Without prompting, the boy laid himself out on the bed, stretching out for Glorfindel to examine.

Curious, the Golden Lord circled the bed, running an appraising eye over the small but muscular body. _“I’m told you don’t have a name.”_

_“Our masters may call us what they please.”_

_“What if I wanted to call you piggy?”_

_“Then you’d be fucking an animal.”_

Glorfindel laughed. _“I suppose you’re right.”_ He sat on the bed, pushing the slave’s feet apart. _“But I want to call you by your name.”_

_“Maeglin.”_

He nodded. _“Thank you, Maeglin.”_ He ran his hand up the inside of the boy’s leg, feeling his muscles. _“Are you a virgin?_ ”

Maeglin snorted. _“Yes.”_

_“Are you opposed to losing your virginity?”_

_“You own me,”_ Maeglin reminded him. _"I'm not allowed to be opposed."_

Glorfindel stood, folding his arms over his chest thoughtfully. _“I do,”_ he mused. _“And if I wished to fuck you without an ounce of preparation, I could.”_ A slight tremor ran through the slave at his words but he ignored it. _“But I’d rather have a willing partner.”_

_“If I said no, you would either rape me or sell me to someone who would.”_

_“I could,”_ he said. _“I’ve already reserved your place at this weekend’s auction. Virgin or no, you’ll fetch me a pretty penny.”_

The bed creaked as Maeglin sat up. _“My lord-”_

_“Hush.”_ Glorfindel turned and raked his eyes over Maeglin. The slave looked uncomfortable for the first time since Glorfindel had opened the box. Almost scared. _“You don’t wish to go to auction?_ ” he asked.

_“No.”_

_“Why?”_

Maeglin didn’t respond, so Glorfindel allowed the topic to slide.

He sat on the bed, wrapping his arms around the slave and pulling him into his lap. _“Since it’s your first time, I’ll be gentle,”_ he began, reaching out to stroke Maeglin’s dark hair.

Maeglin bit his fingers.

Glorfindel swore. _“Must I lash you again?”_ he demanded.

_“Perhaps.”_

He shook his head. He knew what most people would have done in his position and wasted no time in saying it, _“You know, anyone else would have whipped you by now.”_ He gripped Maeglin’s jaw, forcing the other to look into his face. _“And you’d be up for auction, your virginity intact if you were lucky.”_

_“And if I wasn’t lucky?”_

_“You’d be bought by a brothel.”_ A shiver ran through the captive, and Glorfindel leaned forward. _“Would you like that? The higher-end brothels are rather nice, the slaves get three meals a day and a healer between patrons. But the cheap ones-”_

_“My lord-”_

_“In either one, you’d never have a moment’s peace. Always wondering if your next customer would be kind or not.”_

That seemed to silence him. Maeglin closed his eyes with a sigh. _“My apologies-”_

_“Save your lies.”_ Glorfindel pushed Maeglin off his lap. _“There’s oil in the top drawer of my dresser. I suppose you know we need it?”_

Maeglin fumbled for the oil, then hurried back to Glorfindel, offering him the bottle. _“I don’t know how-”_

_“I suppose you wouldn’t.”_ Glorfindel sighed. He jumped off the bed with a grunt, then bent Maeglin over it. The slave hissed as his sore skin was fondled and coated in oil. When a finger slipped inside him, he stiffened and tensed.

_“If you don’t relax, this will hurt,”_ Glorfindel said.

He could tell Maeglin was trying to do as he was told, but his muscles remained tight. Finally, he grew impatient and slipped his finger out. Maeglin seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as two fingers, coated in more oil, pressed inside him.

He rubbed Maeglin’s back with his free hand, then pulled his fingers back out. _“Get up.”_

Glorfindel sat on the bed, then pulled Maeglin back into his lap, rubbing his back gently. _“I would truly prefer not to rip you on your first night.”_

_“Let me try again-”_ Maeglin began.

Glorfindel shook his head. _“You’re still tense,”_ he said. _“I’m not going to harm you,”_ he promised. _“You’ll get as much pleasure from this as I will, I assure you.”_

Maeglin shivered but nodded.

Glorfindel slipped his hand between Maeglin’s ass cheeks again, pressing one finger back inside him. Maeglin tensed, but only momentarily.

_“Good boy,”_ Glorfindel cooed, slipping another finger in beside the first. _“Relax.”_

He could tell Maeglin was trying and rewarded the attempt by rocking him and patting his back, adding more oil to his fingers before pressing them inside once more.

But it was clear the slave still wasn’t enjoying himself. Glorfindel sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair, cooing to him quietly. _“Loosen up,”_ he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. _“You’re perfectly safe with me.”_

_“I’m trying!”_ Maeglin protested.

_“I know,”_ Glorfindel promised. Seeing that what he’d tried wasn’t working, he pulled Maeglin closer and kissed him, slipping his hand between their bodies to play with Maeglin’s balls.

That finally got a reply out of him, and he gasped softly. Glorfindel took the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, kissing him deeper as he writhed in his lap.

The next time he tried pressing his fingers inside Maeglin, he was met with less resistance, although he found he had to keep playing with his balls with one hand as he stretched him with the other.

Maeglin rocked in his lap, seemingly overwhelmed by the sensations. _“I- I- I-”_

_“Shhh,”_ Glorfindel murmured. _“Put your head on my shoulder.”_

He spent far more time than he should have fingering him, enjoying the noises he was making and the way he writhed and gasped. When he withdrew his hands, Maeglin whined.

_“Turn around and face away from me,”_ Glorfindel instructed, helping Maeglin to turn. He supported the slave’s hips, holding him above his cock, before slowly lowering him down.

Maeglin’s shoulders tensed as he was pulled down, but Glorfindel allowed him time to adjust, letting him lean back on his chest. _“Deep breaths,”_ he instructed.

_“I can’t,”_ Maeglin sobbed.

_“You can and you will.”_ He wrapped one hand around Maeglin, rubbing his stomach slowly. _“Remember how I told you to relax?”_

_“Yes.”_ There were tears on his face that hadn’t been there a moment ago, although Glorfindel wasn’t certain if it was pain, fear, or humiliation that caused them.

_“Tense.”_

Maeglin did as he was told and the tightness brought a moan to Glorfindel’s lips. He leaned his head back against the pillows, sighing softly. _“Good boy,”_ he murmured.

Maeglin only sobbed in response.

Glorfindel leaned them both forward, keeping himself buried in Maeglin as he moved, knowing that the elf was tense enough he might not be able to renter him if he pulled out. Soon they were both on their knees, Maeglin under him with his elbows on the bed.

_“Don’t cry,”_ Glorfindel murmured, kissing his neck.

_“I’m sorry,”_ he whimpered, but the tears continued to flow.

He weighed his options. Simply fucking Maeglin through his tears might be enjoyable, but then he’d have to work harder to soften him up the next time. If he spent a few minutes soothing him, it might pay off in the future.

Making up his mind, he took ahold of Maeglin’s cock which had softened at some point, and stroked him briskly. _“Have you pleasured yourself before?”_

Maeglin nodded, not seeming to trust himself to speak.

_“Good,”_ he said, slipping his hand away. _“Rub yourself.”_

Maeglin didn’t need to be told twice, bringing one of his hands to pull at himself frantically. Glorfindel took the opportunity to pull out slightly and then thrust back in.

Maeglin yelped and stopped pleasuring himself.

Glorfindel sighed and wrapped his own hand around Maeglin’s cock, stroking him in time with each of his thrusts.

Maeglin was in tears when he finished, spurting over the bed just as Glorfindel orgasmed inside him.

Once he’d gotten himself under control, Glorfindel sighed and rubbed his back, pulling the slave to his chest as he lounged against the headboard. _“You did beautifully,”_ he murmured into his ear. _“Don’t weep.”_ As he talked, he grabbed a cloth, wiping them both clean with it.

_“I’m sorry,”_ Maeglin whispered, his voice trembling.

Glorfindel rocked him slowly. _“It will get easier, in time,”_ he promised.

_“Please don’t sell me.”_

He pressed a kiss to the slave’s cheek, rubbing away his tears with his lips. _“Be a good boy and I may keep you.”_ He still had little intention to keep him, but it seemed to calm the slave.

_“I’ll be good,”_ he hiccuped.

Glorfindel reached for his dresser and pulled out a metal tub. He removed the lid carefully, dipping his fingers into the cream. “ _Straddle my lap, one leg on each side,”_ he said.

Maeglin did as he was told, wincing with each movement. When Glorfindel pressed his hand on his ass, he sobbed. _“Please-”_

_“Shhh. This is your reward.”_ He rubbed the cream into his reddened skin, then scooped up more and pushed Maeglin’s ass cheeks apart with his free hand while using his other hand to press the cream inside.

Maeglin gasped.

_“Feels strange?”_ Glorfindel guessed.

Maeglin nodded.

_“It will help,”_ he promised, rubbing it into the tender ring of muscle.

_“Have I been good?”_ he asked after a moment. _“Will my lord keep me?”_

Glorfindel wiped his hands clean on the cloth, then set it aside, pulling Maeglin in closer. _“You’ve been good,”_ he said simply. _“But I have no need for you.”_ Not when there were brothels where he was far less likely to form any emotional attachments. 

The slave whimpered. _“Please-”_

_“Quiet,”_ Glorfindel said softly. He brushed sweaty hair from Maeglin’s face. _“Why do you wish to stay?”_ he asked.

_“You seem kind.”_

_“I’m not,”_ Glorfindel promised.

He allowed the slave to sleep in his bed, but was shaken awake in the middle of the night by soft sobs. Maeglin was shaking in his sleep, mumbling again in the dialect Glorfindel didn’t understand.

It seemed the mystery only deepened, but Glorfindel shook his head and told himself he didn't care.


	3. Chapter 3

When the sun began to rise outside, Glorfindel found his bed was empty.

He swore and jumped to his feet, grabbing a dressing gown before hurrying from his room.

_“Maeglin?”_ he called sharply.

Stopping a passing servant, he was told that no one had seen the slave since the night before.

_“Find him,”_ he ordered. _“Whoever brings him to me will get five gold marks.”_

With a proper incentive, it was only a short time before Maeglin was found, hiding in the garden shed, wearing a stolen set of Glorfindel’s clothes. After paying the man who’d found him, Glorfindel leaned back, turning over an hourglass before folding his arms over his chest. _“You have until the sand empties to explain yourself. Otherwise, I’m having you sent to the auction block.”_

_“I was only going on a walk,”_ Maeglin said, looking down at the floor. _“I meant to return before my lord woke.”_

He seemed to be telling the truth, surprisingly. _“Did I give you permission to go on a walk?”_ Glorfindel asked, aghast.

Maeglin shook his head.

_“Then why would you do it?”_

_“I was not aware it was forbidden.”_

Glorfindel shook his head. _“You gave up the rights to go off on your own when you sold yourself into slavery,”_ he said firmly. _“But since you’ve been honest-”_

_“Thank you, my lord!”_

_“I will add another lash to your punishment for speaking over me,”_ Glorfindel said, giving him a firm look. When he remained silent, the Golden Lord finished, _“Five for fleeing, one for being a pest, three for taking my shirt, and one for speaking out of turn.”_

_“Yes, my lord.”_

He took Maeglin to his bathing chambers, stripping him out of the stolen clothes and sitting them aside. Then he bent him over a stone table that usually held soaps and oils, and folded his belt in half.

But when he rested his hand on Maeglin’s ass to line up his shot, a shiver ran up the slave’s spine and a sob slipped from his lips. Glorfindel moved his hand to take a good look at him, then sighed. It was clear he hadn’t recovered from the night before, his ass still red and throbbing. Whipping him with a belt would be beyond cruel.

Instead, he delivered five sharp slaps with his hand, then patted Maeglin’s back. _“Next time, I will use a belt, no matter how tender you are.”_

_“Thank you!”_ Maeglin gasped. _“Does this mean my lord intends to keep me?”_

_“No.”_

Maeglin’s shoulders sagged. Glorfindel ignored him. _“Don’t leave my rooms again,”_ he said firmly. _“Take a bath if you’d like. I will return later.”_

He had a busy day of work ahead of him, and spent most of it out of the house. By the time he returned to his room, Maeglin wearing another borrowed robe, sitting on a chair and looking out the window.

Glorfindel ignored him as he dressed for bed.

Maeglin tried to crawl into bed with him, but he pushed him away. _“Floor,”_ he ordered.

* * *

The day of the auction dawned bright and clear.

When he looked over the edge of the bed to check on him, Maeglin was wide away, staring at the ceiling with horror-filled eyes. Glorfindel sighed. _“Come here,”_ he said, motioning for Maeglin to crawl into the bed.

He pulled him to straddle his lap and rubbed his shoulders. _“I cannot take you to the auction looking like this,”_ he scolded.

_“Please,”_ the youth whispered, burying his face in Glorfindel’s shoulder. _“I’ll do anything my lord asks of me if he allows me to stay-”_

_“You ran away from me yesterday,”_ Glorfindel reminded him sharply.

_“I was not aware- I mean- I-”_ His body began to shake, his fingers scrabbling for Glorfindel’s shirt. _“It was truly an accident!”_

_“What are you frightened of?”_

_“They took me to an auction. I watched it,”_ he sniffed. His voice faded, giving way to soft sobs.

Glorfindel rubbed his back thoughtfully. He’d been to enough auctions to know it couldn’t be pleasant on the product. The slaves were stripped and paraded around. Those of lesser value, who were to go to brothels rather than individual owners, were groped and measured.

Maeglin could barely stand Glorfindel’s touch, having multiple strangers touching him at once would destroy him.

He was mumbling softly in his own language again, rocking himself. _“What have I said about speaking that filth in front of me?”_ Glorfindel asked.

_“I’m sorry!”_ Maeglin pushed back, his eyes full of fear. _“Let me apologize! Please!”_

His hands went for Glorfindel’s crotch but he pushed them away, instead pulling him back to his chest. _“Lie down,”_ he murmured, rubbing his shoulders.

It was too early to be dealing with a weeping slave, he thought, glancing out the window. _“What were you saying?”_ Glorfindel asked.

_“I was praying.”_

_“For what?”_

Maeglin swallowed, then whispered, _“For my lord to have a change of heart.”_

He sighed. _“You’re too pretty for a brothel,”_ he said after a moment. _“You’d be purchased by a buyer, most likely a lord. You seem Salgant’s type-”_ Glorfindel cut himself off, picturing the harpist with Maeglin and finding that he didn’t like it.

_“Is he kind?”_ Maeglin asked.

_“Not to his slaves.”_

_“Oh.”_

They were both silent for a moment. Glorfindel broke it by asking, _“Why did you sell yourself?”_

_“I had heard of this city and wished to come here,”_ Maeglin said after a moment. _“I had nothing left for me at home.”_

_“No parents?”_

_“My father beat me and my mother is dead.”_

Glorfindel curled his fingers through Maeglin’s hair, trying to ignore the swell of pity in his chest.

_“I won’t ever leave again,”_ Maeglin whispered suddenly. _“I’ll stay in this room forever.”_

He chuckled. _“You don’t mean that.”_

_“I’ll try.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I want to stay.”_

Glorfindel shook his head. _“It’s time to go,”_ he said softly.

Maeglin was mostly silent as Glorfindel dressed him in a new outfit, following him quietly out to the waiting carriage. He stepped inside and Maeglin crawled in after him, sitting on a seat opposite him.

Glorfindel glared at the carriage wall, trying not to look at Maeglin. _“You’re not the first pleasure slave I’ve owned,”_ he said abruptly.

Maeglin turned to look at him with curious eyes.

Glorfindel still wouldn’t meet his eye, uncertain why he felt the need to explain himself. _“I made a mistake. I got attached.”_

_“What happened?”_

_“There was a small uprising. He wasn’t truly involved, just had poor taste in friends.”_

_“He was killed in the fighting?”_

Glorfindel shook his head. _“They were chained in a public square and left to the elements.”_ He cracked his jaw. _“It took a week for him to die.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“He wept. He begged.”_ Glorfindel scoffed. _“Until his dying breath, he thought I would swoop in and save him.”_

_“Why didn’t you?”_

_“Because it wasn’t permitted.”_ He turned his cool eyes on Maeglin. _“I bedded you to prove a point. Now I have no further need of you.”_

* * *

Maeglin silent after his story, which made it much easier to guide him out of the carriage, and toward the waiting pens where Glorfindel could wash his hands of him.

Unfortunately, before he could get away, a familiar voice called out, “Glorfindel!”

“Ecthelion,” he replied.

“Did you enjoy my gift?” Ecthelion wasted no time in hurrying to grab Maeglin, pulling him to his feet and pushing down his pants, studying his reddened ass. “Has he been troubling you, or did you merely have a bit of fun?”

Maeglin said nothing when he was stripped, although his face had turned nearly the same shade as his ass.

“A bit of both,” Glorfindel confessed easily.

“And yet, here you are.” Ecthelion motioned around them to the auction house. 

“Have I disappointed you?”

Ecthelion only shrugged. “I merely thought he might cheer you up, that’s all.”

They were interrupted by the auctioneer’s men, asking their purpose. Glorfindel handed Maeglin off to them, then allowed Ecthelion to lead him away.

“I have a box,” he said cheerfully. “Perhaps you’d like to watch the bidding?”

“Ecthelion-”

“Come now, you might find yourself a better toy-” Ecthelion squeezed his arm. “I insist, you must come.”

Glorfindel hesitantly followed him. The minstrel enjoyed the social part of the proceedings, enjoyed talking and making conversation, gossiping over the slaves that were up for auction and their buyers.

They sat in Ecthelion’s box as the proceedings began. Neither of them paid much attention to the slaves up for auction, instead focusing on sipping the wine Ecthelion had called for.

Before long, the door to the box was opened, and one of the auctioneer’s men stepped in, bowing. “My lord. Your merchandise is missing.”


End file.
